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The myth of the horned vampire
"The myth of the horned vampire" is a collectible found in the sewers accessed behind the Ascalon Club in the West-End before confronting Harriet Jones during Patient Zero. Transcript What is a tale but forgotten or mythicized history? By essence, vampires are related to the concept of immortality and they can be perceived as entities that live through centuries, thus becoming mythical figures themselves. But what about the concept of a tale so old it could become a myth among the vampires? I know it may sound vertiginous, but we know, as scholars, that the impossible is just an unexplained or undocumented event. For a few years now, I’ve tried to find traces of a figure rarely seen amongst the English immortals: the horned vampire. Through centuries, less than ten occurrences of this figure can be found in the various documents gathered by our order: the figure of a man-shaped silhouette, sometimes made of blood, sometimes made of mist or rain, that appears from Wales to Scotland only to immortals, who have no idea what this thing could be. What is this creature with large deer antlers? Is it related in any way to the figure of Cernunnos, the ancestral horned god of the Celts? We don’t know at all. But now think about this: vampires themselves have no idea of what this creature could be. Now that’s a frightening idea… We may be in presence of something so old that only small hints of its existence can be found through eons. If this is true, we, as Brothers of Saint Paul, need to investigate this entity, for it could help us understand the forgotten origin of vampires. As a reminder, I add to this letter a transcription of the only written evidence we possess concerning the horned vampire, the odd poem entitled “The Dreams of the Red Queen”, supposedly composed by this entity. According to some vampire testimonies, this creature has sometimes been heard singing it while briefly appearing somewhere in Great Britain. I invite all of our Brothers to study this text and consider it a testament of forgotten history. Twelve dreams for the red queen under crown of stone That she may linger longer with eyes kept closed Eleven thorns blooming from her troubled brow Awaiting the next harvest to be gleaned at brisk springs Ten copper veins ripped from the belly of the earth Melted into tears flowing towards banished brothers Nine glorious pyres on the scorched plain To punish those whose hands were slow to obey Eight voracious beasts born from eight restless nights Their backs hardened by their race with the sun Seven notes of warning in the summer sky Compelling child to shielded sheets of sleep Six watchers bent on the hunting trails Shadows of their spears trace the tired furrows Five houses to fall before song’s end Then five more reborn from their blackened ashes Four nails piercing the flesh of the sinner Restlessly hung to the dark wood of his crimes Three books scribbled by pen of the dancer Who refuses to answer the call of the abyss Two giant rival snakes slither in ageless forest Coiled to the bones of mortals destined for the grave One prayer for the summoned called by this song Child born from darkness whose path he must find From “Drinking at the Fountain of Knowledge” by Usher Talltree, Primate of Saint Paul